


Hiraeth

by finereluctance



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bromance, Gen, episode tag: s01e05 the iron ceiling, howling commandos are epic, peggy is a bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3294035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finereluctance/pseuds/finereluctance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiraeth: a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.</p><p>Peggy Carter has settled into a less-than-glamorous job at the SSR, but that doesn't mean she is happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I already have a mother, Carter. What I need now are soldiers."

It took most of Peggy's self control not to roll her eyes at Agent Thompson. His tone was not one she cared for - it was long-suffering and irritated by her, as if she was a liability rather than an asset. Sadly, it was one she had become well-acquainted with since the end of the war. That didn't make it any easier, though; that attitude from her colleagues kept her isolated and alone, relegated to answering phones, filing paperwork, and fetching lunch.

She had felt a certain level of smugness when a single phone call had the 107th jumping at the chance to back her up. Thompson's face had been priceless, and the knowledge she would be reunited with her team made her feel better than she had in years. She even let the horribly offensive comment about her having served _under_ a Captain roll off her back as she pulled on tactical gear and let the nostalgia wash over her from the simple familiarity of fleece-lined trousers. It was still winter in Russia, after all, and she didn't bother to tell the others they picked up the wrong trousers for the trip. They would figure it out soon enough.

Standing at the door of the plane in preparation for the jump, she closed her eyes for just a moment. In that instant she was back in the war with Dugan at her back, Bucky at her side, and Steve in front of her. It was comfortable, familiar. For just a moment she had a purpose and people who cared for and respected her. In that moment, she was home. 

Peggy waited until the last possible second to open her eyes, the cold wind already biting at her cheeks, just so she could pretend a little bit longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SSR Agents meet the Howling Commandos for the first time.

The jump was pure adulation for Peggy. She was in freefall, the cold biting at her cheeks and the wind rushing past her ears, and everything from the last few years just slipped away from her. The opinions from her SSR colleagues didn’t matter, the situation with Howard was forgotten, and her mind was clear. She was Peggy Carter, and she was finally doing what she loved.

She landed gracefully with a couple of steps, far more so than Agent Thompson who landed unceremoniously on his knees with an ‘Oof!’, and gave her parachute a tug at the right moment to avoid getting it in tangled in the trees. Ramirez wasn’t quite as lucky and it took two of them to pull it free. With her feet on the ground, she stood straighter, wrapping and tucking her deployed parachute with practiced ease, and stashed it at the base of a tree before she gathered branches to disguise the pile.

Peggy could feel Thompson’s gaze on her as she worked, but it was easy enough to ignore it while there was work to be done. In the forests of Poland she was the experienced one, and the lead agent knew that even if he didn’t like it.

“We’re eight klicks east of the RV,” Thompson announced when they’d finished hiding the deployed parachutes. “I’ll take lead. Carter, you’re in back. Stay tight.”

It was easy to fall into step, her gun drawn and resting against her shoulder as they started toward the rendezvous point. The forest was quiet around them, the only sound the occasional owl and the sound of their own boots breaking through the thin layer of snow and ice. If she didn’t look too closely at the shoulders she followed, it could have been mistaken for one of their missions during the war. Peggy heard a twig snap a moment before the sound of guns being cocked, and the SSR agents jerked their weapons up to point into the darkness ahead of them. 

“Don’t move.” Peggy didn’t raise her gun, already knowing who they had run into. It was impossible to mistake Happy Sam’s soft drawl.

“Emu.” A quiet, familiar voice came from the copse of trees in front of them.

“What?” Thompson looked confused as he glanced at Ramirez.

“Ostrich, man.” That was Pinky trying to help. “Ostrich.”

Peggy snickered from the back of the pack as Dugan got the code word wrong and tried again. “Shut up. Emu.” She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter and stashed her weapon when she took a step forward. She wasn’t going to help them until they asked.

“Dammit, Carter.” Pinky’s familiar accent made her smile when it came from the trees to her left. “Dugan forgot the password again.”

That was good enough. She pushed passed Ramirez and Thompson, her gun over her shoulder as she approached her team. “Password is Eagle, you apes.”

Dugan stepped out into the moonlight, a grin on his face. “Oh, hi, Peggy!”

She relaxed almost immediately at the pure fondness that was in his tone, his smile a dead giveaway at how pleased he was to see her. Peggy felt her own smile growing as she closed the distance between them to hug him tightly, her face pressed to his shoulder as the feeling of rightness spread through her. The hug lasted a moment too long for what would be considered proper, but in the forests of Poland, no one said anything about it. She was still smiling when she stepped back to see the Commandos who had moved forward to surround the SSR team.

“Fellas.” He nodded to the dumbfounded SSR agents.

“Thompson, that’s Dum Dum Dugan!” Agent Li’s voice was filled with an awe that reminded her of a child meeting Captain America for the first time. 

Peggy couldn’t keep the smile off her face when she turned back to the agents; her place at Dugan’s side rather than with the SSR was not lost on the three agents who were out of place in the forest. The rest of the 107th stepped out of the trees, surrounding the agents who glanced around uncomfortably.

“Jack Thompson, Mike Li, Rick Ramirez,” she took pity on them and introduced them around to her Commandos. “This is ‘Junior’ Juniper, ‘Pinky’ Pinkerton, ‘Happy Sam’ Sawyer, and you already seem to know ‘Dum-Dum’ Dugan…” she nodded to each of them in turn, her smile wide as she greeted each of them. “The 107th, our tactical team.” They were a sight for sore eyes, colleagues and teammates she’d missed since the war ended. Most of them hadn’t been back Stateside in almost two years, and she had missed their banter and teasing; she did her best not to laugh when they bickered.

“Dugan, you fought side-by-side with Captain America, didn’t you?” Mike was still looking at Dugan with stars in his eyes, but the mention of Steve made Peggy’s stomach plummet to her knees. The last thing she wanted was to be subjected to the questions she knew would come, and she hated Dugan to be forced to answer them either.

“Yeah. But not as long as she did.” Dugan nodded toward Peggy and she felt herself blush at the utter fondness he spoke with. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her reddened cheeks and she berated herself silently for the flush. Clearly she had been away from the 107th too long if only a sentence could make her feel grateful for their kindness and the respect they had for her. She offered him a small smile and rocked back into the touch where his hand rested against her lower back, catching his eye because she knew he would understand how thankful she was for his presence without needing to say it.

The moment was interrupted when Jack stepped towards them and offered his hand. “Agent Jack Thompson. I’m running point for the SSR.” She bit the inside of her lip to stop the grin that threatened. Thompson was not going to be popular with the 107th if he acted like his usual self. “We head due eat till we hit the border.”

“We’ll hit a wall of Reds before we reach the border.” Dugan pointed out logically and looked over at Peggy with a grin that told her exactly what he was going to suggest. They’d made the trip from Belarus into Russia a couple of times during the war. “Let’s head up into Lithuania, cross over into Russia at Ashmyany.”

Thompson looked as unimpressed with Dugan’s plan as Dugan had looked with his. “You planning on walking halfway across Lithuania?”

Dugan smirked his patented shit-eating grin that always spelled trouble and mischief during the war. “Well, _you_ can if _you_ want.” He gave Peggy a light push to her back before he walked away from the group towards the 107th’s trucks where they were hidden on the road. “But me? I’m taking these.”

She waited just long enough to see the incredulous look on the SSR agent’s face. “Peggy, let’s go.” Dugan called over his shoulder and she moved, falling into step behind him as the two of them took one truck on their own and left the others to sort themselves in the remaining two trucks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy and Dugan take a ride in a truck and share a bottle of bourbon.

She should have known Dugan would be on her the minute they were alone. The trucks hadn’t even started moving yet while Thompson and the others sorted out who would ride where into Lithuania before they ditched two of the trucks for the duration of the mission. 

“Did you bring what I asked for?” he was like a child on Christmas morning - or a man too long removed from his favorite booze.

Peggy smirked as she pulled the bottle loose from the holster at her side. They were multi-function, after all, and there was no reason to risk dropping it in the jump. “From my own private stash.” She always kept a bottle of it on hand, just in case the 107th found themselves stateside and Dugan would inevitably end up at her door.  
“Ah, attagirl.” The affection in his tone as he made grabby hands for the bourbon made her roll her eyes in fondness. “See, the Germans are geniuses when it comes to beer, but no one knows bourbon like the U.S. of A.” Dugan’s low laugh made her relax at his side, leaning her shoulder against his just enough to remind them both this was real once again.

“Cheers.” He swigged from the bottle and passed it so she could partake. It was a simple gesture to include her, something she hadn’t realized she’d missed since the war, and she took the bottle with a sigh. “Cheers.”

They were quiet for a little while as the bottle passed between them. It was comfortable silence that she craved when she was in New York; a companion at her side who accepted her exactly as she was. There was no pretense with the Commandos, and certainly not with Timothy Dugan who had seen her at her worst.

Eventually, though, he had to ask. “So Thompson is the jackass you told me about?”

Peggy sighed again. She’d almost forgotten the SSR agents were in the next truck. “He’s one of them. He had a fit when I told him I was coming.”

“Well he’s in for a rude awakening. You always know we’ve got your back, Peg.” She relaxed further at that. Not that she’d ever really doubted them, but the last few years had clouded some of her memories so she wasn’t sure if they’d ever really deferred to **her** or because Steve had told them to listen to her. It was a relief to have her unspoken fears alleviated, especially after the loss of both Bucky and Steve. They were the last of their team and Peggy felt foolish for even entertaining the idea her team would have turned on her.

“It’s good to be back,” she murmured as she gave herself over to the temptation and rested her head on Dugan’s shoulder. She wouldn’t allow herself to do it around the SSR agents, but the innocent comfort was more than welcome while they were alone.

“It’s good to have you back.” Dugan’s murmur matched her own, both too afraid to give voice to what meaning was hidden in such simple sentiment.

Nothing had been right in Peggy’s life since she landed in New York at the SSR. It was the best position she could pull in the postwar world when most women her age were already married and in the kitchen with children underfoot, but she was far from happy filing paperwork and fetching lunch. She hadn’t given the Mr. Jarvis the satisfaction of her agreement when he pointed it out time and time again, nor was a mission really the time to talk to Dugan about it. Though, she mused, if she was ever going to talk to someone about it, it would be Dugan.

Their arrival at the Lithuanian border drew a sigh from him as their private time ran short. “Alright, so, tell me, what's the story with Stark and these Leviathan jerks?” 

Peggy sat up straighter, back in work mode and focused on the mission. “The SSR is convinced that Howard is trying to sell technology to enemies of the United States.” She rolled her eyes, the expression on her face telling Dugan her thoughts on that. “They think Leviathan is a potential buyer.”

He certainly hadn’t lost his ability to read her reactions in their time apart. “And you disagree?” 

Her thoughts about Howard were complicated at the moment, she was angry at him and wanted to punch him the face more than once, but she knew Howard as well as she knew her Commandos. “Howard isn't selling weapons to adversaries of the United States... Not to Leviathan, not to anybody. He may be an utter wanker, but he is one of us.” He was just as much a Commando as any one of their soldiers. 

“So you think the whole deal is a trap.” She smiled at the resignation in his voice, pleased he had come to the same conclusion she did. It reinforced the fact that the SSR was missing a vital piece of the puzzle.

“It's always a damn trap.” Peggy laughed lightly. “That's why we bring the guns.” There was no one better to have with her when she walked into a trap than her Commandos. “Question is, if Leviathan is trying to lure us in with promises of capturing Howard, then what is it that they really want?” 

“Maybe it's just the pleasure of your company,” he teased with a salacious wink as he drew a cigar from his pocket.

She snatched the cigar away from him, unable to bear the achingly familiar scent even after the years had passed since losing Steve. 

“Hey!” 

She’d heard scent memory was the strongest of the senses, something she could agree with definitively because of Dugan’s cigars of choice. It was the only brand he would smoke, something local in Europe he could pick up most places despite the war, but she never got the name. The brand didn’t really matter anyway, it was the scent that got her. One whiff of smoke and she was right back in December 1944.

_It was Christmas Eve, but while most troops enjoyed the reprieve the holiday would bring, the 107th was hunkered down in a damp cave in East Germany while on a mission. They celebrated in their own way that night - good drinks, good company, and the best rations they could manage. Everyone was huddled up near the fire, the proximity to each other doing more to warm them than the fire itself, with Peggy tucked snugly between Steve and Dugan._

_In the spirit of celebration a mildly drunk Dugan lit up a cigar, altogether unsuspecting of any reaction from his team since it had never been a problem before._

_”Put that out. Seriously, man!” Bucky drunkenly swatted at the cigar. “Not around Steve, his lungs can’t handle the smoke.”_

_Conversations stopped and everyone froze until Peggy started giggling. A drunk Bucky meant an overprotective Bucky, and one that tended to forget the finer points of Steve’s transformation. It was cute, which meant Peggy (who was well into a good bottle herself) just giggled until her sides ached and everyone else had succumbed to their own laughter at Bucky’s expense._

_”It’s fine, Buck.” Steve attempted to reassure his petulant best friend who hadn’t looked too happy being laughed at. Steve’s own laughter didn’t help the situation. “One of these days I’ll actually have to try a cigar.”_

_The teasing comment sobered Pinkerton right up. “Wait, you’re telling us you’ve never had a smoke, Cap?”_

_“Never could before,” Steve shook his head and in the next moment the cigar was in his hand._

_”Tonight is your lucky night,” Dugan laughed. “I’m in a sharing mood.”_

Parts of that night were more difficult to recall than others, but half a dozen cigars had made their way around the circle until they all had a good smoke. For Steve, it had been his first, and their little team became a family that night in a vabe in the deep forests of Europe. It was a nice memory, one of her favorites from the war, but not one she needed a reminder of in the middle of a mission. Not with such strong emotions attached to it.

“You smell bad enough,” she snapped by way of explanation for her action. He should understand, except that he smoked those particular cigars for exactly the opposite reason - to always remember that night with Steve and Bucky.

“And you used to be fun.” Dugan dished it right back with a teasing tone. She knew she was forgiven for throwing out the cigar if he was taking the piss.

Peggy shrugged sadly. “Yeah, once upon a time.” Even being rid of the cigar wasn’t enough to stop the memories from flooding the forefront of her mind. Good memories, bad memories, they all came back to her, and every one of them focused on Captain Steve Rogers.

They were both quiet for a while, lost in their own memories. As they neared Ashmyany, Dugan whispered softly, “...I miss him, too.”

Peggy didn’t let herself cry, not then, but she did let herself lean into his side once again. It was warm there, familiar and comforting, and she breathed a bit easier knowing she was not alone in her grief. They had all lost him when Steve’s plane went down, every one of the Commandos. She was not alone. She never would be, not with Dugan at her side and the weight of his arm across her shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

It was another hour or two before they stopped for the night. Ramirez and Li struggled to set up a tent for the SSR agents while Peggy and Sam had one up for the Commandos in a quarter of the time it took the others. The rest dealt with gathering up firewood and taking patrol while Pinky got to cooking.

“Figured you’d all have Carter doing the cooking,” Thompson commented when he dropped his last load of firewood.

Laughter from the 107th drew a smile to Peggy’s face rather than irritation at the comment. Her boys favored their own well-being enough that she would never be expected to cook. Thompson just looked confused.

“Man,” Sam managed to get his laughter under control. “Rations ain’t that good, but y’ can’t even eat ‘em if Carter is cooking!”

“It was **once**!” She tried to defend herself, but she was laughing too. “And Steve said it was good!”

Dugan’s laughter grew louder and his face reddened, his shoulders shaking from the force.

“Hate to be the one to tell you, Peg,” Pinky grinned over his shoulder at the group, “but Steve would’ve done anything to make you happy. Including eating your burnt mash and beans.”

“Worst meal I ever had!” Dugan wheezed. “So she’s not allowed near the food if we want to eat it!”

It was a familiar conversation with the Commandos, the boys taking the poss and teasing her mercilessly, but not one at the SSR had ever seen the playful side of Peggy Carter. The last thing Thompson expected was to see Peggy steal Dugan’s bowler hat impishly and hold it over the fire.

“Maybe I did it on purpose because you lot deserved it.” Her grin only widened when Dugan lunged after her and she darted out of the way. “Remember I had to bail you all out of that French prison the night before?”

Dugan chased her around the fire a few times in an attempt to get his hat back; the rest of the Commandos sidestepped as necessary to stay out of the way. “You promised not to bring that up again!” Dugan howled. He was more determined than ever to get her and with a nimbleness few expected from Dugan he spun around and caught her up in a fireman’s carry.

Her yelp had the rest of them laughing, but she caught the look of confusion on Thompson’s face when Dugan spun them around in victory. It just made her laugh more because the SSR agent prided himself on being unflappable. Clearly he didn’t know what to expect from the 107th, or Peggy for that matter.

She laughed harder still when Dugan dumped her unceremoniously on her arse and left her there until she caught her breath.

“Food’s on,” Pinky announced, distracting everyone from their antics.

Thompson took bowls out to Li and Ramirez while the Commandos served up their own and settled down around the fire, Peggy between Dugan and Pinky. It wasn’t quite the same without Steve and Bucky, and Jim and Gabe tied up on another mission, but it was the happiest Peggy had been since Steve went into the ice and that meant something. She settled in with her meal and let the conversation flow around her.

***

“I thought I was going to freeze my nuts off that night!” Junior finished an animated retelling of his last mission into Russia with Gabe and Jim. “It’s no wonder the Reds are so deep in their vodka!”

“Hey, go easy on those beans, okay?” Sam reminded Junior with a nudge of his foot after he’d gotten a second bowl. “I don’t want to be smelling you all night.” 

Thompson approached while they were all laughing at the youngest member’s expense. “Coast is clear,” he announced his presence. “Li and Ramirez are on the night watch, we should be good to go at first light.” The SSR agent fixed himself a bowl of food and joined them, sitting on the edge of their half-circle. “Which means we stand relieved.” 

Peggy had enough bourbon and good cheer that she joined in with the Commandos to tease Junior as mercilessly as they teased her. “You see any abominable snowmen like the one in Tibet?”

Junior’s cheeks went bright pink. He hadn’t been with them during the war, so he was the least used to Peggy’s presence and teasing, which often resulted in a spectacular blush and stutter. He didn’t disappoint her. “I... I never said a-abominable snowman." 

She giggled and leaned closer to Dugan and the warmth he radiated. Her face was warm from alcohol and laughter, but even with her lined trousers and coat the cold was beginning to seep in.

“In fairness,” Pinky’s laughter died down with the crestfallen look on Junior’s face. “He did specify ‘yeti’.”

“Y-yeah.” The embarrassed blush was still in full force.

“Sorry,” Dugan laughed and passed him a beer. “It was a little hard to make out words in between all the sobbing.”

Junior’s face set off a renewed fit of laughter around the fire. “Shut up.” It didn’t help his case that he settled into a full on pout. “It was scary!”

Peggy had nearly forgotten about Thompson’s presence when she was back among her men. Deep in the Belarussian forest, she could feel her heart mending amidst laughter and friends, and everything looked a little brighter. It was easier to continue on when she had a place to be and a purpose.

The agent’s voice broke through laughter and reminded Peggy that he was there. “So, what is the difference between a yeti and an abominable snowman?” His question reminded her that unlike the SSR, Jack was the one out of place in Belarus. The Pacific Theater had seen summer tropics and heavy humidity, not the horrors of freezing days and impossibly cold nights.

“One's real and one isn't,” Junior replied bluntly, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. The fresh round of laughter made his eye widen and he looked around. “What?” 

It would’ve been easy to leave Jack on the outside and keep him as ostracized as he made her at the office, but she took pity on him (though if anyone asked, she would say she was saving Junior from further shame). “So, I hear they have, uh, mermaids in Japan. You see any of them when you were out there?”

**Author's Note:**

> This will likely continue as random scenes and bits throughout the episode


End file.
